Amber to Zetes
by Denaliyasha
Summary: B was for broken, because Audrey was the only thing holding the town, and Nathan, together anymore.  A set of 26 Nathan/Audrey shorts, one for each letter of the alphabet.
1. A

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: For all those waiting for Invictus, I am still working on it! I promise. There was a whole variety of personal issues that ate up the rest of my summer, and then I lost my train of thought. I'm getting it back again and hope to have a chapter up in the next two weeks.

But as for this! I watched the season finale of Haven and went, "Aww..." It was adorable. And I think Nathan is awesome, and I want one, to follow me around and make dry, sarcastic comments about stuff. Anyhow, THIS IS IMPORTANT: for the purposes of avoiding dealing with the whole other-Agent-Parker thing (because I don't want to come up with an explanation for it since it's kind of complicated) and the Rev thing (cause I hate him and don't want to write him as much as would be required) I'm going AU from before Nathan finds the Rev in his dad's office. Other than that, everything is canon.

On with the alphabet series!

**Amber**

In all of this confusion, this ridiculous shock of "I might be immortal," one thing kept sticking in her mind, kept her thoughts returning: if she was Lucy, and had always been Lucy, then who the hell was Audrey Parker and how did she remember being that child?

If she was Lucy, then she'd apparently been the same age for at least thirty years, so how did she have childhood memories if she hadn't been a child then? Immortality made so much more sense than de-aging and amnesia and re-aging (and the fact that she was thinking the words "immortality made so much more sense than" proved just how crazy this town had made her), so who was Audrey Parker and why did she remember her life?

She wandered aimlessly through town and along the ocean, trying to think her way through this massive problem that was threatening to overwhelm her brain, doing her best to squash it back into her mental "deal with it later" file so that she could focus on more current issues, like Nathan.

Nathan.

The man with a father who wasn't his father but was in every way that counted, who had just lost said father and blamed her for not being able to bring herself to lie to a man who'd been literally holding this town together for years. She'd _wanted_ to tell the Chief everything would be fine, but he'd told her when he'd first hired her that he valued her ability to see things as they were, instead of as she wanted them to be, and so she couldn't do it.

And now Nathan probably never wanted to speak to her again. She couldn't leave Haven, not when she suddenly didn't know who or what she was, but she'd do her best to avoid him for his sake. Maybe give it a few days then ask if there was anything she could do for him while he dealt with his father's funeral, or... she didn't know what else he might have to do. She'd never lost a family member before; she'd never had one to lose.

She was going to have to find a way to keep working on her investigation of Lucy (and for the sake of her own sanity, she needed to keep referring to her that way) without stepping on Nathan's toes or reminding him of his loss. She imagined spending her time around Duke would keep her out of his line of sight, but this town was too small for her never to run into Nathan.

This town.

It was beautiful and dangerous, friendly and secretive, and it had her trapped like a bug in amber. She nearly laughed aloud when that analogy crossed her mind. It was so very her. She was perfectly preserved, unnaturally so, and entirely stuck here, unable to move forward without answers.

All she had, now that it seemed what little she had from her childhood and career (which, damn it, she'd been proud of, but how much of that had been her?) was a lie, was this town, and the people in it that she knew.

All she had was Nathan, who was the only person she could ever remember trusting so unconditionally and who had ever trusted her that way.

And he might never want to speak to her again.

She pulled her jacket a little more tightly around her. She'd give it a few days.

A/N: Next word is broken.


	2. B

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Sorry for the Invictus delay, again. There were some epic personal issues that I won't bore you with that had to be worked through, and some weird reactions to medications (hallucinations are always fun times) and I'm working on it. As in the document is open and almost 2000 words long.

On to the Haven story! Please bear with my attempt to get into Nathan's head, re: what he calls his father and his attempt and failure to distance himself. You'll see what I mean.

**Broken**

It occurred to him that he must look slightly odd to anyone who might pass by, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was just standing there, in The Chief's (_father's_) office, staring at the desk.

It felt, somehow, like it should be cracked. Split open like the street, like the beach, like the town. Like all of their lives.

The Troubles were back, and The Chief (_hisfather_) had fallen victim to them.

This was what he'd dreaded, when he'd told Audrey that he was worried they wouldn't stop this time. He'd known that if they continued long enough, he'd lose The Chief (_HISfather_) or someone else close to him. He'd lose this town, or at least the important parts of it.

And now he had, lost The Chief (_hisfatherohgodhisfather_) to the Troubles and the physical manifestation of the town falling apart beneath his feet. Literally.

So many things were spinning around his head, not the least of this what to do with the badge that was sitting in the center of the desk in front of him. He didn't want it, not really. It had always been a title to him, one that carried resentment and a certain overbearing nature that he had to rebel against.

And now he was The Chief. The job of holding the town together was on his shoulders. At least he couldn't feel it.

That thought brought a wry smile to his face, that was quickly erased as his mind skipped to the one thing he _could_ feel.

Audrey.

Upon reflection, he knew that she had been right not to offer what even he knew to be false hope to The Chief (_hisfatherWHY?hisfather_). If wanting could solve the Troubles he'd be able to feel. If wanting could solve the Troubles, his... (_father!callhimthat!_) The Chief would still be alive.

But still, he'd pushed her away, in his irrational fury. He knew it was due to grief, shock, and all of the nasty emotions surrounding the death of his father, but still. He'd been cruel, playing on what he knew of her guilt at not being able to do more to help the people of Haven as well as her sense of responsibility to him as a partner in the most damage he could possibly do.

He had to find her, and fix this, for his own sanity, for her sake, and because this town was broken, and Audrey seemed to be the only thing that could hold it, and him, together any more.

A/N: Next word is claim.


End file.
